Only Human
by Kainos Ktisis
Summary: She did not look strong and invincible, but fragile and ohsobreakable. She did not look like the powerful angel that he always perceived her as and for the first time, he realized that she was truly only human. [Ingame][Cloti]


**A/N:** Hmm...well, I haven't written any Cloti angst along the caliber of depressiveness of my Inuyasha angsts, so here it is. Just trying a bit of a different approach. This is set some time in Disc 1 and preferably before the Gold Saucer date, though I suppose it doesn't really matter. I don't want to say too much for fear of revealing too much. So yeah. Enjoy and review!

**Disclaimer**: Again, Final Fantasy VII belongs to Square Enix.

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**Only Human **

_I like being known for my strength. I like the fact that nobody ever tries anything funny on me because they know that I can easily kick their ass. I like the fact that I can keep up with the guys in our group—if not better than them at times—while maintaining my feminine side. I always thought that this was my specialty._

_However, it wasn't until today that I realized that this specialty could be so detrimental._

_You see, the problem when you're as capable as any to take care of yourself in battle is that people begin to expect that you don't need help and that you'll come out unscathed. People begin to expect you to cover their backs while keeping yourself safe. People begin to forget that you're capable of bleeding, that you hurt just as much as she does when you get kicked in the gut, that the only reason you never say anything is because of that image of toughness you love to hide behind._

_But they never see you in the dark of the night covering up those bruises with makeup or stitching up those gashes by yourself. They never see the hours of tossing and turning in bed because you can't find a comfortable position that won't irritate your wounds. They never see the silent tears that are forced from your eyes when you walk with as little a limp as possible on that sprained ankle._

_They initially don't see it because you won't let them, but as time goes on, you slip when hiding your pain, but it no longer matters because it is expected that you'll go on._

_That's what happened to me. They forgot that I bleed. They forgot that I hurt. And they forgot to check if I was okay._

_That's why…that's why I'm here now. In this cave, scribbling this with a shaking hand, freezing…dying._

_Then again, I suppose it is my fault for telling them to go on. She needed medical attention more than I did. I would only slow them down. So I put on my mask of strength and told them I'll catch up with them in the next closest town in a couple of days. I just needed to rest._

_And so here I am. Cold from the weather, but I think it's more from the loss of blood than anything. I don't remember how much blood they say a person can lose before their body can't function anymore. Oh well. It's not as if I'm gonna measure how many liters of blood has drained out of me. I have better things to think about then that._

_Like thinking that maybe…maybe they'll remember one of these days that I'm only human. Maybe then they'll come back for me. But it'll be too late by then. Is that too morbid? Maybe this whole dying thing is really getting to my head._

_I love being the image of strength; I just never realized it could—or rather _would_—kill me._

…

Something was not right. He could feel it in the constriction of his veins and arteries. The pumping of adrenaline rang in his ears yet he could not understand what had triggered this fight or flight instinct. There were no enemies. Aerith was no longer in critical condition and all the members of their ragtag team were accounted for.

_No, not everyone_, reminded that little voice that most people often ignore.

It did not take long for the implication to make itself known. _Tifa_.

His hands suddenly felt clammy and a sick feeling erupted in his gut. How could he have been so insensitive to leave her in that cave by herself? A part of him knew that the painless façade she kept up was nothing more than just that: a mask. He knew that her injury was far more serious than she let on, but he had been foolish enough to be tricked.

But that wasn't the only reason. To be brutally honest, he had put Aerith's safety above hers. Tifa was the stronger of the two women; this was a fact that everybody knew.

He had just assumed…assumed that she would make it through.

After all, she always had. She made it through all those years ago when the rope bridge broke and left her flailing to the hard ground below; she made it through the carnage Sephiroth left in Nibelheim and even through the fatal wound left by his Masamune's cold metal blade. She'd made it through all that. There was no way she could make it through all that only to fall from such an insignificant battle, could there?

But what if…what if she had? What if, just this once, she wouldn't make it? What would he do then?

_Then you go back and find her!_ exclaimed the voice in poorly masked irritation.

Cloud did not hesitate to follow its advice.

…

_I don't think the full implication of my dying has hit me yet. You would think that I would be in a more panicked state, but I find that my mind is rather clear and unaffected by all of this. Now, don't take this wrong. It's not as if I'm looking forward to dying; I'm not suicidal, you know. It's just that I don't feel as worried about my own safety as I probably should. Maybe that's a good thing._

_Sometimes people survive longer when they don't care about their own safety. But I doubt I'll be one of those people._

_I wonder how it's possible that my hand still functions. You would think that the decelerated blood flow to my fingers would render that motion obsolete, but nope, I'm still writing. Maybe it's the whole adrenaline thing._

_People say that on the brink of death, people suddenly have a rush of strength._

_Regardless, I think the blood loss is starting to get to me. My memory is starting to get a little fuzzy and I can't seem to keep a straight train of thought. I apologize if this makes no sense anymore, but hey, I'm dying. Give me a break. I don't think I ought to be expected to make sense._

_I'm getting to the point where my hand can't control my brain. I mean my brain can't control my mind. Er, my hand. Whatever. I can't think anymore._

_I think this is the worst part of dying, the losing my mind part of it. It'd be so much easier if it was a quick death. Then I don't have to see myself lose my mind. Then again, if I lose my mind, I won't be aware of it so it doesn't matter._

_I always wondered that though. If somebody goes crazy, is there a sane part of him that knows that he's going crazy but can't do anything to stop it? That sounds horrible. To be trapped by your own body. I know you can't see me, but that shiver that racked my beaten body just then wasn't because of the cold or because of the loss of blood. It was the thought of not being able to control my own body that I shivered. Scary thought._

_It's getting colder._

_So this is why some animals hibernate. I think I would like to do that too. Yeah. Sleep sounds good. Just for a little while. I'll wake up sometime. Bears do that all the time right? Sleep for a couple months at a time until spring comes around?_

_Yeah. Sleep sounds really good._

_Sorry about lying about being strong. I'm really not. I thought I could pretend, but I guess I won't make it to the end of the show. I'm only human, after all._

_I wish my mind would work right so that I could get all my last farewells out to you all. Morbid as it sounds, I have a long list of things I wanted to say to you. I mean, be realistic. It's not as if I never thought that I'd lose my life over the course of this journey. It's best to be prepared._

_It's too bad I can't remember what I wanted to say. Even now, all your faces and names are all jumbled in my head. I'm sorry for being weak. I'm sorry I can't remember, but I'm sure you guys will know what I would have wanted to say. I think so anyway._

_I'm really tired. I think…I'll just sleep for a while. Just a little while._

…

Is this what it feels like to be petrified beyond one's senses? To be heart-broken and shattered beyond recovery? If so, Cloud couldn't understand how _anyone_ would be able to survive emotions as violent as this. It can't be physically possible.

Not with the way his heart refused to decelerate into a remotely safe pace even for strenuous exercise; not with the way all the air in his lungs refused to exhale but instead built up until he felt his body would implode; not with the way his stomach clenched and twisted and snarled into constricted knots that threatened to turn him into a human pretzel.

Not with the way his angel, his beautiful, beautiful angel lay motionless upon the frigid, dirt-packed floor, her ivory skin tainted by a faint, unfeeling blue hue. Not with the way her trove of long, silken hair flowed behind her tranquil body, her purpled lips parted in a fashion that said her last breath had been ragged and painful, much in the manner in which her whole life had passed.

Yet still, she had not been bitter or resentful.

She took whatever fate had decided to toss at her in stride, never once allowing her faith in herself and in her friends to break. Never once had she turned spiteful eyes to land upon his countenance, regardless of how much he knew he deserved it. Not even that one time when he had given the flower he bought from Aerith to Marlene instead of to her. He had seen the hopeful glaze in her eyes—those captivating eyes!—and he wanted so badly to give it to her, to see joy immeasurable radiate from her very being. He wanted so badly to make her happy.

But fear controlled his actions and without even realizing it, he had handed the little flower to the little girl. He watched as her crestfallen expression surfaced for only a little while as she quickly repressed it and asked how the mission had gone. Her mask was a good one, one that had withstood numerous grueling tests, but he could tell that it was a mask nonetheless. A mask that he had helped fix upon her face, upon her whole soul.

But now, as she lay there with her back to a wall filled with scribbles and writings made with the charcoal from the small fire she'd lit, that mask that he had wanted to take off with his own two hands had been forcefully ripped from her the moment she left this world.

She did not look strong and invincible, but fragile and oh-so-breakable. She did not look like the powerful angel that he always perceived her as and for the first time, he realized that she was truly only human.

He took one hesitant step forward before his body carried him the rest of the short way to her side. His legs gave out beneath him and soon he was kneeling next to her stomach, his shaking hands reaching out to brush against the cold skin of her cheek. That was the first time he'd ever caressed her so, and how disappointed he was to realize that whatever warmth she had contained in her body had long fled. There was no flushed cheek or flustered expression shining in her eyes. There was only the indifferent gaze of death.

One of his arms slid under and around her waist while the other tenderly held the back of her head as he lifted her torso in a desperate embrace, almost as if trying to transfer his body heat to her. But he knew it was useless. She was gone, and he knew that this marked the end of his journey. How could he go on when the very reason he ever did anything lie dead in his arms?

"I'm sorry, Tifa." His voice was cracked and raspy, a trail of tears erupting into a deluge as he spoke. "I'm sorry I didn't keep my promise. I'm sorry I was so cold you. I'm sorry I lied to you. Five years ago, Nibelheim, I wasn't the SOLDIER who came with Sephiroth. You knew that, didn't you? I was the Shinra trooper. That's all I ever amounted to. I just didn't want to disappoint you. But I guess I did anyway. I disappointed you when I gave that flower to Marlene. I disappointed you by giving more attention to Aerith than I did you. A part of me wanted to make you jealous, the same way you made me jealous when we were kids. But I'm sorry for that now. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to be happy. I know you always liked being strong. You never wanted anyone to worry about you, but you always worried about everyone else. I'm so sorry I'm useless. I'm so sorry."

He shifted their position so that he sat with his back against the wall and her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Why'd you have to go like that? Why'd you always have to be so damn strong? I just wanted to protect you, and you didn't even let me do that. But I guess you just knew it before I did. I'm not strong either. You have your mask and I have mine. I hate my mask. All it did was push me further from you. How come you get to rest now? I want to rest too. I can't keep doing this, pretending I'm so strong. I can't keep being someone I'm not. I can't keep pretending that I'm some hero because I'm not. I couldn't save you."

His eyes drifted shut and he leaned his head back against the wall. His tears had stopped falling and his mind was strangely clear. For the first time in a long time, he felt relieved and unburdened by the things of the world. "I think I would like some rest. Everything has been too hectic lately. Just a little bit of sleep would be good. After all, you're not the only one who's human. I'm only human too."

His mind drifted for a little while, remembering their childhood, her laughter, her eyes, her voice, her kindness, her strength, and just before he fell faint to the world, her humanity.

* * *

**A/N:** Make your own judgment as to what happens in the end. I left it relatively open-ended on purpose. So yeah. Just thought it'd be interesting to see to explore if, instead of the whole "Tifa dies for Aerith" scenario, this happens. And I know that some of the stuff that Cloud says he shouldn't know until later in the game, but that's called artistic prerogative. I was dabbling with the notion that Cloud is fully aware--or at least more aware--of who he is from the beginning. So yeah. That's my FFVII angst for the day/week/month/year. 

By the way, just so everyone knows, there was no intention whatsoever to dis Aerith in any way, shape, or form. Just because I like the Cloti combination doesn't mean that I don't like Aerith. But, I still think that Tifa is definitely physically stronger since Aerith is mainly a magic user.


End file.
